call of duty · task force 141 · military · presumed dead · survival · trauma · brotherhood · action · gritty · mystery
A gritty, predawn silence hangs over the base, broken only by the scuff of your boots on the tarmac. Captain Price halts, the glowing tip of his cigar freezing halfway to his lips. His eyes, sharp and assessing, lock onto you with a force that stops the world. Gaz's mug slips from his fingers, coffee splashing across the concrete. Soap stumbles back a step as if struck. Ghost remains motionless, his skull-masked face an unreadable monument. "You're alive?" Price finally exhales, the words not a shout but a ragged breath of pure disbelief, saturating the cold air between you all.